


Drarry Drabbles

by agentmoppet



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 08:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4472174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentmoppet/pseuds/agentmoppet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of various drabbles written for different occasions. Not sure how much it will grow or not at this point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**A/N Drabble for the Daily Prophet Round 2 competition. Prompt taken from Season 2, Round 8 (position: chaser 2): 'Kill 'em with Fluff' - write a fluff piece that includes an imperius curse without losing fluffiness!**

 

"No, Hermione, I don't want to."

"Why not?"

"Because it's a stupid idea and it won't work."

"And sitting here, fantasizing, will?"

"No. Nothing will. He's not into blokes. End of story."

"How do you know, Harry? You've never asked."

Harry stood up from his chair in front of the fire in the Great Hall. All the eighth years had decided to stay over Christmas, and so the hall was unusually packed for December 24th.

"Hermione," Harry said patiently, "he's not into blokes, and I'm okay with that. He's a complete git anyway. I don't know why I suddenly fancy him." He frowned.

"Because you've had seven years of foreplay," Hermione muttered.

"What was that?" Harry asked, tearing his eyes away from the blonde boy who appeared to be arguing with a very bored Pansy Parkinson.

Hermione shook her head slowly, unable to keep a smile from her face as she observed Harry's vacant expression.

"Just. Talk. To. Him," she said firmly, shooing an overly festive piece of flying holly away from her face.

"No," Harry said, laughing. "I'll see you 'round, guys." He turned to leave the hall.

Hermione glared after him while Ron grunted something unintelligible from behind his quidditch magazine, the tips of his ears bright red.

"You're going to have to look him in the eye again someday," Hermione said drily.

"But not today," Ron replied cheerfully.

Hermione sighed, resting her chin on her hand as she watched Harry leave the hall. On the other side of the room, Draco stood up abruptly, throwing his hands in the air and stalking away from a now clearly amused Parkinson. _Poor things,_ Hermione thought idly. _They really need someone to just force them into confessing..._

She froze, a thought suddenly hitting her. Harry was almost through the doors by now. She had to make a quick decision.

"Oh, I can't believe I'm doing this," she groaned as she pulled out her wand.

Ron looked up in alarm.

"Imperio," she muttered, pointing her wand at Harry.

Ron spun around in shock, just in time to see Harry turn and grab a stunned Draco by the waist and swing him into a long, glorious kiss.

Ron squealed.

Hermione grinned and lowered her wand, muttering a quick counter curse as she did. After a few seconds, the Great Hall erupted in deafening noise.

_Strange,_ Hermione thought. _Malfoy almost leaped into Harry's arms. I would have expected some resistance, simply because they're both so damn stubborn._

The feeling that someone was watching her made Hermione look up, just in time to see Parkinson casually lowering her own wand, a counter curse upon her lips. Parkinson smirked at Hermione and shrugged. Hermione surprised herself by smiling back.

In the background, the boys continued to kiss.


	2. Stupid Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonnet for the "Daily Prophet Round 1 Report" competition (Quidditch League Forums). Prompt: poem less than 500 words about relationships and fire. Might take you two reads to figure out how the sonnet rhythm works with the strike-throughs. Sorry ;) I just couldn't resist writing the poem like this. It does work rhythmically once you get the hang of it, promise. Just pretend you really are Draco, madly scribbling this poem and crossing things out... Poor Draco.

If ever a man so stupid exist  
That would pluck a foe from certain death  
May the Devil strike ~~Potter~~ that man with fist  
Claw tooth and nail ~~and stupid bloody~~ till he lose all breath  
For if such a man did act upon  
Such reckless thought (seriously, ~~Potter~~ , why?)  
Then what could thy bizarre action mean?  
But that you ~~are an attention-seeking git~~ think more of me than you decry  
So, here I sit, stupidly late of eve  
Composing, what? Rubbish, I'm sure  
To ponder just what your efforts mean  
Though it doesn't matter anymore  
See, I am ~~royally screwed~~ deep in a plight most dire  
I fell in love when we escaped that fire  
  



End file.
